


We Never Meant Anything We Said

by typewriterlights



Category: 18th & 19th Century CE RPF, Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Canon Era, Historical Inaccuracy, I'm not sure yet, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Period-Typical Homophobia, Possible Character Death, if you're looking for historical accuracy, look elsewhere
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-10
Updated: 2016-08-25
Packaged: 2018-07-14 05:56:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7156328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/typewriterlights/pseuds/typewriterlights
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the beginning of the winter at Valley Forge, and it's also the beginning of feelings that John Laurens didn't ever think he would be having.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> (sort of)DISCLAIMER: I am sure all of you are well aware, the 18th century was not a good time to be queer.(really what century has it been a good time?) This fic does deal with internalized homophobia, but since I am not the best writer in the world, nor was I alive back then, it's going to be hard for me to accurately represent those feelings during this specific time period. I probably won't accurately describe exactly how difficult it would have been for two men in a relationship in the 1700s.(It is likely that such a relationship could have been unhealthy) But for the sake of fiction, I'm going to make it easier and less unhealthy than it probably would have been. Remember, this is a work of fiction. If this offends anyone, or if you feel this is problematic, talk to me and I can take it down. I seriously don't want any drama.(there's far too much of it in this fandom as is) If this simply isn't what you're looking for, stop reading and I won't be offended.
> 
> The title of this is from a song called Your Bed by my favorite band, All Time Low. Listen to it if you want to really get a feel for the mood I'm going for, or if you just want to listen to a good song.
> 
> Also, since I'm still working on my other fic, Eye of the Hurricane, (which I swear I will update soon) this might not be updated as often. As soon as I finish that one, this will be my main focus. I'm going to try to make this one a long one.
> 
> Happy reading!

“Care to accompany me back to our tent, Colonel Laurens? I have some work that needs to be attended to, and I believe I will be needing your assistance.” Hamilton made a sweeping gesture towards the tent that they shared on the opposite end of camp.

“It would be my pleasure Colonel Hamilton.” It was completely innocent of course; Washington’s aides-de-camp always shared their quarters. That was just how it was done.  No one else could possibly see it as unusual. Hamilton had been working all day with Washington, organizing the armies’ next movements. It was agonizing for John; working in such close proximity with him and not being able to touch. Not being able to run his hands through his gorgeous brown hair that was silky smooth under his fingers. He knew how much they each stood to lose with this,  _ liaison _ . His father would be mortified, obviously, not mention the fact that it was with a poor man from the West Indies. A definite blow to his family’s high social standing. His father would probably kill himself if were to ever find out. Although he knew next to nothing about Hamilton's background, he could only imagine the shame that would be brought on his family as well. But John didn't want to think about that. No one could possibly ever find out, not with how careful they always were. Not a soul would ever know what they did in the dark. The action was wrong, but the feeling,  _ the feeling _ , was so right. At the edge of camp, their tent was somewhat secluded. They got the privilege of what little privacy they could get, because of their rank and closeness with General Washington. If they weren't too loud, no one could hear them. When Hamilton had first arrived to work for Washington, Laurens spent two agonizingly long months absolutely infatuated with the man. He kept his true feelings hidden, as to preserve their friendship, and his honor, but sharing a bed with someone that you have your heart set on is incredibly difficult. Laurens never imagined that his feelings could ever be reciprocated, but his Alexander was certainly a man of many surprises. It had been late at night, and Hamilton was up late finishing a report for the general, when he stood up suddenly, startling John from his place on the bed where he was reading a letter from his father.

_ One Week Earlier _

“I believe that I will simply go mad if I have to write one more word of this report. If the general doesn't give me a command soon I don't know what I'll do. I can't just sit here while others are making names for themselves on the battlefield.” John had never seen his friend get annoyed with writing; he seemed to enjoy it a great deal. 

“Is there anything I can do to help you?” He was surprised when Hamilton laughed in response to his question. 

“Help me? My dear Laurens, I could think of numerous things that you could do to help me.”John gave him a quizzical look; he wasn't often so vague about his intentions. In a few short strides however, his intentions were made clear. John felt himself being pulled to his feet; helpless to resist the strong hand that was clasped around his arm. Before he knew what was happening, there were a pair of lips attached firmly to his, making all of his fantasies suddenly become reality. This kiss was different than any other he had ever experienced. He had kissed a few others before, but all of them had been the pretty daughters of his father's friends that he had been expected to fall in love with. This kiss was different because he actually enjoyed it. All of those girls could never compare with feeling of Alexander’s mouth on his.  It was over much too quickly for his taste, when Hamilton drew away suddenly.

“I- I am so sorry, I shouldn’t have taken advantage of you in such a way, my friend. Please, I beg of you, don’t tell anyone of what happened here tonight. I fear my reputation will be ruined.” John stared hard into the other man’s large, soulful  brown eyes.

“My friend, why should I be upset at you for doing something that I myself have wanted to do from the moment we met? This is simply more proof that you are a braver man than I. Although, that was quite a risk you took."

“I never imagined a man such as yourself feeling this way. I thought I was alone in my sinful desires.” Hamilton was looking at him as if he were a puzzle he was trying to solve. John took in every line, every inch of his face, searching for proof that he was in fact being truthful. 

“I must confess that I myself also believed you to be a morally upstanding gentleman.”

“My dear Laurens,” he laughed, “I'm from the Caribbean, I know not the meaning of  _ morally upstanding _ .” The way his eyes sparkled in the candlelight as he laughed was intoxicating. The flicker of the flames reflected in them accurately matched the younger man's fiery personality.

“Well then Hamilton, I implore you, teach me these ‘caribbean ways’ of yours.”

“It would be my greatest pleasure.” John was swept off his feet in every sense of the phrase. The small bed could hardly hold the both of them the nights they were simply lying next to each other, but now Hamilton was hovering over him, leaving a trail of kisses up and down his neck. John found himself completely spread out across the bed, completely exposed. He wantonly bucked his hips up against the other man; desperate for some friction. He moaned from the close contact; arching his back even more to close the distance. 

“You must be quiet my dear, or else we will be found out,” Hamilton breathed into his ear, still not stopping his hands from roaming the body of the man underneath him.  

“If I am to be quiet, I think that you will have to make me.” Laurens wasn’t usually this coy, but something about the man from the West Indies had brought it out in him. Never one to back down from a challenge, Hamilton removed his mouth John’s neck and placed them not at all delicately on his lips. The kiss was breathy and wet; a whole new experience, as the girls he had been with had always been nothing short of proper. He felt alive at last; the euphoria that could only match what he felt while in battle. His senses were heightened, he felt awake,  and it felt as if he had just been doused in cold water. All because of this simple act. But it wasn’t that simple; it never was for John Laurens. Suddenly he felt sick, and he regained control of his common sense. What was he doing?  He was John Laurens, his father had a reputation to keep, he himself had a reputation to keep. And here he was, throwing it all away.

“Stop. Please.” he put his hand on Hamilton’s shoulder to create distance between them.

“What’s wrong Laurens?” His sharp eyes filled with concern. “Is this too much for you?”

“We can’t do this,” he whispered harshly, ignoring the question. “If someone were to find out, both of our lives would be ruined. We could be killed! Or worse, court martialed!”

“Taking risks is what brings excitement to life, I was sure you of all people would know that. That is why we all must do are best with the time we have to live. Life has the name of life, but in reality it is death. We must take every moment as an attempt to resurrect ourselves from the grim fate that we all await.”

“Our days will surely be made brief if anyone were to discover what we’ve done.”

“But isn’t it worth it? You cannot tell me that you didn’t enjoy this.” He was right, he enjoyed it, he would love to do it again, but he knew that that was dangerous to say the least. “I promise you, no one will ever find out. And if even if someone does, I will take full blame for it. After all, you have far more to lose than I.” He didn’t ask him to clarify what he meant by that. Surely his family too would be devastated if they ever found out about their son’s preferences.

“No! You can’t do that, not for me. You are the general’s favorite, I couldn’t have you lose all of that."

"My dear Laurens, let’s not worry about what  _ could _ happen. Let’s concern ourselves with what _ is  _ happening.” He could never say no to him.

“And what exactly is happening?" he replied, regaining the teasing edge to his voice.

“Well, I was planning on fucking you, but if you had other plans...”

John was almost ashamed of the loud moan he made in response. Almost.

That all had been a mere week ago, and in that week John's life was completely changed. He had taken to staring at Alexander's hands as he worked. He wondered why he never noticed their beauty before. He knew that he couldn't be distracted; they had a war to fight after all, but he also knew that sometimes he needed a distraction. If that distraction came in the form of a brown haired, brown eyed beauty, then so be it. He was still constantly worried that someone would catch on, but as his Alexander brought him to bed, all of those worries went away, and were instead replaced by the gentle caress of loving hands. It was common knowledge to all in General Washington's camp that Hamilton and Laurens were inseparable, but fortunately no one knew the extent of their closeness. To John, it was obvious that they were both going to hell, but now that the deed had been done, there was no going back. No going back to the old John Laurens who had previously been naive to the ways of the world. Even while studying abroad he lead a sheltered life; never reaching past the walls of his school. He eyes were now open wider than they had ever been before, and it was all because of Hamilton. 

It was early winter and it was just starting to get cold; the once golden leaves had long since fallen from the trees, and laid in broken heaps covered in a light dusting of snow. Most mornings the river would have a thin layer of ice the would later be melted by the strong afternoon sun. Laurens had a feeling that they were going to be in for a long, difficult winter. The chill in the air was unmistakable, and that chill was always the precursor to hard times. Maybe it was simply because he was used to winters in his home state of South Carolina, but something just didn't feel right.

Valley Forge: The encampment lying on the banks of the Schuylkill River that would become their home for the winter. The tents were only temporary,  until they could build proper structures. It was still risky to only have a tent flap to stop someone entering at an inconvenient moment. No matter the danger, all thoughts of discovery completely went away when he was wrapped in the safety of his lover's arms. As he drifted off to sleep, he tried not to think about what would happen if anyone found out. He told himself over and over again that it was wrong, that he shouldn't, that he can't feel that way, but it still didn't stop him. His Heart simply wouldn't allow him to be normal. He didn’t think he could ever go back to not sleeping with their bodies pressed together. The cold December air was made a little less harsh when he could feel Alexander's soft, warm breath on his neck.

  
  
  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> feat. Alex and John kink shaming each other; Washington's aides-de-camp are the definition of no homo; Laurens pretending he's clueless

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I finally got around to updating this. If you haven't already pleasge go read the disclaimer on the first chapter (i added it a few weeks after the chapter was posted) it's important to read before you read this. But other than that, happy reading!

“What do you mean that the men have to build their own quarters?”

“Just what I said.” Hamilton replied dismissively. “The general ordered that the enlisted men have to build their own quarters.” Laurens knew that that would mean that the officers would be asked to help as well, and he was not looking forward to have to build huts in the freezing cold. There were houses available surrounding the camp, but General Washington had said that in order to boost the morale of the enlisted men, the officers had to stay in the camp as well. Something about how “the men need to believe that we feel their suffering.” Laurens wanted to win the war, but he also didn’t want to freeze to death while trying.

“My dear, why do you look so distraught?” Hamilton placed a gloved hand on his shoulder. “Helping to build their quarters should be no problem for you. I of all people should know how good you are with your hands.” His lover smirked and gave him a sly wink when he saw the blush rising in his cheeks. “Are you embarrassed by my recounting of your sexual escapades? Why else would you be blushing like a schoolgirl? You forget, I know what you like.”

“Don’t patronize me,” Laurens responded trying to sound annoyed, and subsequently failing. 

“Besides,” he continued with a smile, knowing that he knew Hamilton’s weakness. “You aren’t exactly elusive in telling me what you like either. I need only to call you ‘my dear girl’ and you practically melt. Think twice before shaming me.” Hamilton just smiled and took his hand off of his shoulder. 

“We have got work to do, Laurens. Let’s not just stand about like fools.” And with that the man was gone. He did that often; he would change the subject and then leave almost immediately. He added this encounter to the ever growing list of things he would never understand about Alexander Hamilton. John didn’t think that he would ever truly understand him and his strange ways. And yet, there was something just so alluring about that air of mystery that surrounded him. 

He was like wind; he would come and go as he pleased. What Laurens didn’t know yet, was that also like the wind, Hamilton was capable of leaving a trail of destruction in his wake.

* * *

 

Washington’s headquarters rested on the edge of Valley Creek; an offshoot of the Schuylkill River to the north. It was a sturdy stone building, that served as lodging for General Washington and his staff. Laurens was sitting at his desk one day in mid February, penning his usual letter to his father. Since his father was the current president of the Continental Congress, it was expected of him to write almost daily to keep his father informed of the affairs of the army. His relationship with his father was anything but ideal. Henry Laurens was a cold and calculating man, who used emotional manipulation to get his son to do what he wanted him to. There were times when John simply wanted to rebel completely and live with his father’s disappointment, but then the rational part of his brain reminded him of how severe the consequences might be. His father had already threatened to disown him no fewer than two occasions, and he especially didn’t want to risk being sent overseas again because his father thought he needed “European refinement”. He didn’t want to risk losing his Alexander.

* * *

 

It was late in the evening and some of the aides were sitting by the fire, unwinding after the long day. They sat in the aides-de-camp office, which is where they would spend most of their day, now with the desks pushed to the sides of the room, freeing the space in front of the fire for them to sit with their glasses of whiskey in hand.

"Who is this man they say is coming to help us?" The question had come from Lieutenant Colonel Harrison, who was the oldest man serving as one of Washington's aides-de-camp, being in his early thirties. The younger ones, even Laurens at times, would call him the Old Secretary if they thought his back was turned. 

"I have heard nothing but rumors, but what I've gathered is that he is a baron who fought in the Prussian army, and was trained by Frederick the Second himself." Laurens only knew what he had heard others say. Washington wasn't divulging any information; not even to the men closest to him.

"I've heard that he was discharged from the Prussian army for some sort of scandal," Tilghman added from his seat opposite of Laurens.

"Allegations of relations between him and officers of the same sex, if my memory serves me well." Harrison continued for him.

Oh. 

That was one rumor that John hadn't heard yet.

"A sodomite Prussian baron helping us win the war? If he is our last hope, we truly are in trouble." This comment from Colonel Meade drew laughs from all of the men, even Laurens whose laugh was more nervous than anything else. He thanked God that Hamilton wasn't in the room. He was also thankful that the orange glow of the fire masked the slight blush that was rising to his cheek

"Surely you don't think that the general would allow one of  _ them _ to serve in the army?" Asked 

"What? A Prussian? I hate to be the one to break the news, but there have been Prussians who have served in the army before." John was nervously trying to bring the conversation away from this topic that hit so close to home.

"No Laurens, you fool." Tilghman chastised; slapping him playfully on the arm. "He meant a sodomite."

"Ah yes, of course. I knew that."

“Sometimes I wonder about you, Laurens,” said Tilghman, hand stroking his chin, gazing at him inquisitively.

“What do you mean?” John was nervously fiddling with the hem of his shirt, but he hardly noticed.

“You’re on Washington’s staff, so you can’t be that stupid. And we all know that your father probably paid for the best education available, so it baffles me that you can be so goddamn clueless sometimes.”

“I’ve had a long day, that’s all. We’ve all had long days. I still be working now if Hamilton hadn’t offered to finish a letter for me.”

“Is that what our little Hammy is up to tonight?” asked Colonel Meade, crossing one leg over the other and leaning back in his chair. “I thought for certain that he had found a girl to keep himself occupied with. Heaven knows that there are enough of them wondering about camp, helping the sick men.”

“I have noticed that he’s been walking with a bit more spring in his step lately,” added Harrison. “It can get lonely here, and if he’s found someone to fool around with then good for him.”

“A toast then, to our little lion who can charm his way into the hearts, and stockings, of any pretty maid he comes across. To Hamilton!” Tilghman cried, the effects of the alcohol showing more obviously now.

“To Hamilton!” the other men, even Laurens, echoed, reaching forward to tap their glasses together. John wanted nothing more than to leave the room, making some excuse about something that he had forgotten to do. He didn’t know how long he could sit there and pretend to laugh as they discussed the love of his life’s love life. Maybe he was rushing in too quickly, thinking of Alexander as the love of his life. He promised himself he wouldn’t do that anymore, especially not after Francis. He had his heart broken, and it wasn’t like there was anyone he could go to to talk about it. He had always felt trapped, but then he met Alexander, and for the first time in a long time he felt that he was at least a little bit free. 

“While we are on the subject of Hamilton, I should probably go see if he needs any help finishing that letter.”

“Are you sure Laurens? You’ve hardly touched your drink, and I’ve never know Hamilton to need help doing anything.”

“I think that it is for the better that I retire early tonight, Harrison. It is likely that the general will require my services early in the day, as he has had for the past few weeks.” With that, John stood up and his friends bid him goodnight. He exited the room faster than he normally would have; he was going to find Alexander.

“We missed you tonight Hamilton, I told you that letter could wait until morning.” Laurens entered the guest bedroom where he found Hamilton hunched over the desk, writing furiously. The guest bedroom in the Potts’ Farmhouse where Washington and his staff were staying, was usually unoccupied unless there was a visiting congressman or dignitary visiting with General Washington.

“I finished that at least an hour ago,” Hamilton said without looking up. “The general needs three copies of this commission for supplies to congress, and I intend to finish it by morning.”

“Alexander, you’ve been working all day,” John said as he crossed the small room. He rested his hands on Hamilton’s shoulders; gently rubbing the tension away.

“John, please, I need to work,” he sighed as he continued to write at a rapid rate. His face was full of concentration for the task at hand. John thought he knew how to get his mind away from it.

“You  _ need  _ to get to bed.” Laurens had made up his mind that he would not give up until he got this man to have a good night's sleep. “You can sleep here tonight; no one else is using it, and it will be quieter. You can’t hear anyone, and no one will be able to hear you.”

“I shall sleep when I get these drafts done.”

“Alexander, I don’t believe that you understand what I am saying. No one will be coming in here. The other aides are too drunk to notice anything, much less move from their chairs. His Excellency is asleep upstairs. Understand now?” Hamilton’s hand stopped moving across the paper. He stood up suddenly and without turning around he said,

“Then for God’s sake, what are we waiting for?” Laurens smiled. So maybe that good night’s sleep might have to be postponed for a little while. He couldn’t deny that it was worth it.

About fifteen minutes later, Laurens was lying on top of a very sweaty, very naked, Hamilton.

“Well, that certainly is one way to keep warm this winter,” Hamilton said, still slightly breathless. John laughed quietly in response; slowly bringing himself out of the daze he had previously been in. He shifted slightly in the small bed so that his back was against the wall and he could rest his arm across Alexander’s chest, and his head against his shoulder. He smiled as his lover placed soft gentle kisses on the top of his head. It was times like this that he could forget what would happen if they got caught.

* * *

 

When John woke up in the morning, Hamilton was gone and there was nothing left of the previous night’s activities except the faint, lingering smell of sex in the room. Much to his displeasure, he would have to open a window. It would clean the air, but at the same time bring in the cold winter wind from outside. He decided to brave the cold and open the small window. He leaned out, resting his arm on the windowsill, taking in the view of the snowy camp ground. There was something so beautifully tragic and cruel about the snow; the frozen crystals lying on the ground like millions of diamonds; the many men lying on sick beds, missing body parts from the diamonds icy sting. The sound of many horses, feet falling quickly into the snow, stirred him out of his reverie. He saw a large dog leap out of the carriage that the horses were pulling. After the dog came an even larger man, whose head was held high with a certain regal air. This must be the man that they said would save the patriots.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My terrible snow metaphors are terrible.
> 
> In the next chapter, whenever that comes out, will be the introduction of my fave gay Prussian (sorry frederick the great) baron von steuben.
> 
> Hit me up: lost-in-alltimelow.tumblr.com
> 
> Thanks for reading!  
> xoxoxox

**Author's Note:**

> I never really know what direction one of my fics will go in, so if anyone has suggestions, feel free to let me know.


End file.
